


a kinder clytemnestra

by peternurphy



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft
Genre: Domestic Discipline, Established Relationship, F/M, Insane vibes, M/M, Multi, Paddling, Polyamory, Scolding, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28346307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peternurphy/pseuds/peternurphy
Summary: randolph carter has grown frustrated in his relationship to nyarlathotep. he seeks help from the goddess purported to be the crawling chaos' wife.
Relationships: Nyarlathotep/Yhoundeh (Cthulhu Mythos), Randolph Carter/Nyarlathotep
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	a kinder clytemnestra

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to AreYouReady for beta'ing this and confirming the vibes are what i want

"It's just- he keeps saying that he'll stop and I know it's not something he needs to do, but he doesn't follow through, and-"

"Sit down."

Yhoundeh looked up at Randolph from her seat, though he felt like she was looking down at him. Her dress, woven from blue and white crystals, flowed out from around her and faded into the mist that lay at Randolph's ankles and her antlers reached up in spires that circled above his head. But he sat across from her.

"Do you want tea?"

Randolph bit his lip. "You said you kept a handle on him," he said quietly. He couldn't meet her eyes, deep and brown with pupils flattened down, so he looked down at his gloved hands on the table, wood encased in a layer of carved ice. "I just want help, I had no intention of bothering you."

Yhoundeh waved her hand in the air. Something jagged and organic, covered in frostbitten, shrunken grey skin set a wooden mug on the table that spat a fragrant steam into the frozen air. Bergamot. He slid a hand between the buttons of his coat to wrap it around the key before daring to even touch the cup with his other hand. But nothing happened. "Everything that I've read says the same thing about you. He... outranks you, but only in theory. I can find something to offer you in return, but..."

Why was it so hard to make a request of her? She wasn't the first great old one that Randolph had met. Most of the others were hostile, or so far beyond a human's understanding that Randolph was forced to give up, or wouldn't even speak to him. Yhoundeh was civil; if he didn't look too closely or for too long she was roughly humanoid. But Nyarlathotep had been like that as well.

She laughed. He looked back at her, making sure not to focus or to directly meet her eyes. "I don't need anything from you," she said. "I have no need for another general." The same limb set another mug on the table, which she held to her lips without drinking. "Did you read the texts in translation?"

Randolph looked back down. He did; the tone of her voice made him feel ashamed. "Most translations use the word 'wife,'" she said, "Though somebody like you should know how inaccurate that is. The nature of our relationship is... you could call it multivalent." She sipped the liquid in her cup, and Randolph found himself glad that he could not see its color or consistency. "But I think you may find part of it enlightening. And I would prefer to show you rather than explain it. It won't help you or Nyarlathotep if I simply tell you."

She waved her hand a second time. Randolph held onto the key as he looked back up. Before him, with Yhoundeh's arm wrapped around his waist, Nyarlathotep stood. He wore the human mask that Randolph knew; the same haughty expression that was his default. Randolph was used to Nyarlathotep; though he could not pick up exactly what lay beneath the expression he knew that Nyarlathotep held something more than arrogance within him at that moment.

So did Yhoundeh, apparently. She turned her gaze up at him. "You stop that," she said. "You know why you're here. Sit, and we'll talk."

Nyarlathotep sat. He said nothing - despite how Yhoundeh spoke to him, despite Randolph never having told him he was going to see Yhoundeh, Nyarlathotep was silent. "I'm glad you listened to me and waited outside this time," Yhoundeh said. She kept her hand on him. "Randolph and I have been talking about you."

Nyarlathotep stayed silent. Randolph had felt fear from the moment he could see Yhoundeh's palace, but when Nyarlathotep wouldn't speak he felt a far deeper sense of power emanate from Yhoundeh than ever before. Randolph had prepared himself for Nyarlathotep to start speaking at length and mocking Randolph for daring to visit Yhoundeh alone. He didn't even guess what they had been talking about.

"Randolph, will you tell Nyarlathotep about our conversation?"

Randolph stared between the two of them. He looked at Nyarlathotep, waiting for some interjection. There was nothing. He coughed and looked down into his still steaming cup. "We were talking about you," he said.

"You don't need to be shy. Nyarlathotep knows better than to be rude around me."

Before he spoke, he took a sip of the tea. He was surprised to find it tasted like tea, and sat warmly in his throat. "Just... I told her that I was upset with you."

"Upset with me?"

"Don't play dumb, Nyarlathotep."

Yhoundeh turned her head towards Nyarlathotep, who immediately bit his lip. "I know what you are, and I know that humans don't mean anything to you," said Randolph. He tightened his grip on the mug. "But I also know you don't need the amount of sacrifices you're taking, or to play with people like they're toys!" He fixed his own gaze on Nyarlathotep. Nyarlathotep's gaze was still arrogant and above it all, though Randolph knew it didn't reflect whatever it was Nyarlathotep experienced. "If I had asked you to stop, and you had said no, I wouldn't even be this upset. I couldn't stop you, but you said you would stop anyway. Then three weeks later I hear from Calvin Brewster about disappearances tied directly to your cult, and we have the same conversation and the same thing happens-" Randolph felt something catch in his throat. He took a sip from the mug before inhaling, his breath catching on the same thing that stopped his voice. "Why do you keep telling me you're going to stop when you clearly have no intention of doing so? Do you really think I'm that stupid?" He set his mug down. "You don't even bother to do it somewhere where I won't immediately find out."

Even after he stopped speaking, that catch in Randolph's throat stayed. His eyes prickled and he had to slow his breathing. He gripped the mug in both hands and glanced between Yhoundeh and Nyarlathotep. Both of their faces had changed. Nyarlathotep had affected a pensive expression; Yhoundeh's smile had fallen and she stared at Nyarlathotep with a look in her eyes far cooler than the snow and wind outside. "I think the most egregious part is that you told him you would stop. Do you agree?"

For a moment, Nyarlathotep said nothing. He looked to Randolph. "To be perfectly fair," he said, his voice measured and lilting, "You have a history of making poor decisions, Randolph Carter. I had no reason to expect you to piece my actions together so quickly."

It was not an unfair statement. But Yhoundeh clearly did not like that answer, and she moved her hand to the back of Nyarlathotep's neck. She turned his head so they were face to face, with Randolph watching from the side. He saw her mouth open and heard the sound of a glacier cracking and falling into the sea and felt a shock wave that brought the freezing cold directly to the center of his body. Nyarlathotep turned back to Randolph. "I did make an attempt to be more subtle," he said, "Though I will admit that I could have been more courteous. I could have kept it out of your home."

"That's a much better answer," said Yhoundeh. "And we won't continue these excursions where Randolph lives?"

Nyarlathotep's mask briefly betrayed him. He almost looked indignant, before returning to the affect of haughtiness and coolness. "I will only do what is absolutely necessary in Ilek-Vad and around your home on Earth," he said. Then he turned back to Yhoundeh. "Is that acceptable?"

"Ask Randolph," she said. "Though even if it is, I still have to teach him how we deal with you."

Nyarlathotep's face finally slipped. "Do you?" He asked. Yhoundeh simply nodded.

"I do," said Yhoundeh. "And I think it will help dear Randolph a lot if he knows what to do the next time you misbehave." She stroked her fingers down the back of Nyarlathotep's neck a few times.

Randolph looked between them. Nyarlathotep's eyes were downcast, and his face was dark as if he were flushed. He murmured something. It lilted the same way his voice did when he spoke to Randolph, though the sounds were far from human speech. Randolph thought of the Court, of the mad, frenzied piping on top of a deep drone that somehow resonated in the empty black space that surrounded Azathoth. At each fraction of a second the dominant frequency shifted. Nyarlathotep stopped speaking - it had only been one sentence - and Randolph was left with ringing in his ears.

Yhoundeh's fingers tightened on the back of Nyarlathotep's neck. "Don't you start with that," she said. "You were the one who decided you wanted this human. And it's very rude of you to speak in a way he can't understand. Apologize."

"I'm sorry."

Nyarlathotep muttered it. He still kept his eyes low, and his face was still dark in what Randolph now realized was embarrassment. Nyarlathotep didn't sound as calm and above it all as he normally did. The main tone in his voice was petulance. Randolph had never heard Nyarlathotep apologize before - at least, not like this. As indignant and sullen as Nyarlathotep's voice was, it didn't sound like he was mocking Yhoundeh or even Randolph.

But Yhoundeh did not seem satisfied. She turned her gaze back to Randolph, and for a moment Randolph was afraid she would begin to chastise him too. "Do you accept Nyarlathotep's apology?" She asked.

"I-" Started Randolph. For some reason, his own face was now hot. He felt as if he was seeing something he wasn't supposed to - but then, Yhoundeh had made this offer, and something about Nyarlathotep now made Randolph feel intensely curious. "I do," he said. "He's never apologized to me before - rather, he has never seriously apologized. I don't mind if he finds it difficult."

Yhoundeh smiled. "We're making progress!" She clasped her hands together. Nyarlathotep seemed a little less pleased. "Of course, there's the matter of punishment for past wrongs."

Randolph's cup slipped from his hands and clattered on the table. The hot tea spilled across the layer of ice, though the ice did not melt. "Punishment?" He asked, eyes wide as he looked at Nyarlathotep. Nyarlathotep's expression was unchanged.

"It's part of the reason why I'm so important to him," Yhoundeh said. She waved for an appendage to wipe the tea off the table and remove Randolph's cup. "I have many different methods I use to keep him in line. It depends on what mask he brings to me, of course. A punishment that's effective for one might be completely imperceptible to another. You'll see for yourself, of course, but why doesn't Nyarlathotep tell us about the punishments I like to use for this form?"

There was no sound. Even the ambient noises of the wind outside and the ice shifting underneath Yhoundeh's palace faded into silence as Nyarlathotep turned to Yhoundeh. "I'm not saying it," he said.

"Oh, you're going to say it. You're going to tell Randolph Carter in full detail how you get punished, and then you're going to say why you need a punishment today, and then you're going to ask me to show your human the punishment so he can repeat it the next time you step out of line. Is that clear, Nyarlathotep?"

When Yhoundeh had spoken earlier, she had sounded mildly amused. Randolph had felt like she found his presence there funny, and like she enjoyed the embarrassment that Nyarlathotep was clearly experiencing now. Yhoundeh was still smiling, but when she scolded Nyarlathotep, she suddenly sounded much less pleased by the whole situation. "You're going to get it regardless of how long it takes you to speak. But if you'd like me to make it even more painful, please feel free to stay quiet."

Nyarlathotep mumbled something.

"Speak up, dear. How do you get punished?"

He answered in one word. It was perfectly clear, something sharp that reached Randolph's ears and was instantly understood. But when he heard, in Nyarlathotep's voice, the word 'spanking', he almost instinctively squeaked out a "What?" in surprise.

Yhoundeh looked at Nyarlathotep. She didn't need to say anything to press him on. "I get spanked," he said, and Randolph could see Nyarlathotep's eyes flickering rapidly between the two of them, and the mask flushing more intensely. "Yhoundeh spanks me on my bare bottom, like a misbehaving human child."

He didn't want to be cruel to Nyarlathotep, but Randolph couldn't stop himself from grinning after taking a few moments to process just what Nyarlathotep was saying. "So the next time Nyarlathotep does something like this," said Randolph, "I just have to put him over my knee and tell him he's been very naughty?"

"It works a charm," said Yhoundeh. Nyarlathotep glowered. But he didn't move an inch until Yhoundeh turned her head to face him again. "I want you to pull your chair that way," she said, gesturing with a long finger towards an empty area of the room. Randolph could have sworn the room had been smaller before Yhoundeh gave her order. "Then you will stand next to it, and ask me to join you so I can give you your spanking. You will be polite."

The legs of the chair screeched against the ice floor as Nyarlathotep dragged it into the newly-formed space. His footsteps scuffed against the ground as if he were kicking it. Yhoundeh frowned, but Randolph could only stare at Nyarlathotep as he set the chair down and stood next to it. Nyarlathotep kept his eyes fixed on the seat of the chair, saying nothing despite Yhoundeh's orders. Yhoundeh watched him for a few moments before she realized that Nyarlathotep would not speak unprompted.

She made the sound again. It came from her mouth like a voice, but all Randolph could think of was that massive crash of tons of ice slamming into a deep mass of surging water, of a freezing blast that broke something more immense than any of them. Nyarlathotep turned and looked back at the two of them.

"Will you please give me a spanking?"

Yhoundeh smiled. "I would be happy to," she said. She stood, and Randolph heard the clicking of hooves as Yhoundeh swept towards the chair. She smoothed her skirts as she sat, and raised the sleeves of her dress. The skin on her arms seemed to be woven in a faintly glowing mix of blues and whites and grays that gave Randolph a headache if he looked for too long. But there was a clear depth of power in her arms and her hands, surging into each fingertip and back. Nyarlathotep had appeared in the same clothes he wore in Randolph's home on Earth: a mostly black day suit, the trousers cut tight against his legs. Yhoundeh unbuttoned his jacket and turned to set it on the side of the chair. His belt was removed; his trousers and underclothes lowered. She patted her thigh a few times. "Over."

Very gingerly, Nyarlathotep bent himself over Yhoundeh's lap. His movement was slow; hers was not. Her skirts had enough length for her to pin Nyarlathotep's leg down with her own. Then she pushed his torso down so that Nyarlathotep was staring at the floor and began.

The smacks echoed against the polished stone and solid ice that formed Yhoundeh's palace. Each was a sharp crack; the first few made Randolph wince in sympathy with Nyarlathotep. At first, Nyarlathotep was silent and still as Yhoundeh spanked him. Her hand moved fast between each cheek, though each smack looked as if it was placed precisely and with deep thought and care. Randolph bit his lip as Nyarlathotep started to kick and gasp in pain.

"This is just a warm-up," said Yhoundeh. "But if you would like to stand closer and observe, I think it would help you. He gets slightly more difficult to handle once you really get started, but you just have to stay firm with him and he'll calm back down." As if her words had prompted him, Nyarlathotep reached back with an arm and a shape that broke through his mask to try and cover his bottom from the barrage of hard smacks. A microsecond-long flash of light surged in Yhoundeh's arm as she wrapped the fingers of her free hand around Nyarlathotep's arm. "I'll give you something to help. But you," she said, pausing on a particularly loud and firm smack, "should know better than trying to stop your well-deserved punishment."

She returned to her work on Nyarlathotep's bottom; Randolph found himself standing and approaching. Nyarlathotep briefly looked up to shoot him a look - something between glaring at him and pleading. Randolph knelt in front of him and rested his hand gently on the back of Nyarlathotep's neck. "I've never seen you like this," he said softly. He didn't want to mock Nyarlathotep, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling a little bit. Nyarlathotep opened his mouth for some retort, but a sharp smack from Yhoundeh turned whatever barbed words he had into a yelp.

Randolph stood back up and walked around. He watched Nyarlathotep squirm and heard Nyarlathotep whine again. As the spanking progressed Nyarlathotep's noises got louder. Randolph had heard Nyarlathotep whine, he had heard him upset, he had even heard him in pain at least twice now. Something about this was new. Meeker, resigned to a long, bare-bottom spanking from this goddess that he had never even spoken about to Randolph. He stood behind Yhoundeh and watched as she struck him, again and again; watched as the color of Nyarlathotep's bottom darkened into a deep reddish purple and his cheeks shook in response to each swat.

The spanking was methodical. Randolph wondered how long Yhoundeh had been doing this for while he watched her continue to spank Nyarlathotep. Sometimes she would move between each cheek, shifting her hand to ensure an even coverage and leave that deep purple all across his ass and the tops of his thighs. But sometimes she would focus on one spot - placing each smack on top of the other just beneath the peak of Nyarlathotep's buttocks, leaving a circle of an even deeper shade that made Nyarlathotep squirm and yelp louder as she continued.

That was where she ended the hand spanking. She finished on his left side, pausing to run the palm of her hand over the skin then to pinch the very center of where she had been spanking, eliciting a small whimper in protest. Without warning she moved to the other cheek; she gave a flurry of hard smacks on the exact same spot. Randolph tried to count; after a few dozen he lost his count and simply watched.

When Yhoundeh finished, she rubbed her hand across Nyarlathotep's bottom. "You can touch him, if you'd like," she said to Randolph. He reached out and ran his fingers from the middle of Nyarlathotep's thigh to the bullseye spot Yhoundeh had been targeting. Nyarlathotep's skin was always noticeably warm, but where it was reddest it was hotter. "How does it feel, Nyarlathotep?"

"It hurts," he mumbled.

"I know," said Randolph. "You're not the first to get spanked."

Yhoundeh smiled. "That's good to hear," she said. "You should have a good amount of knowledge to apply, yes?"

Randolph laughed. "Perhaps I should wash his mouth out with soap for lying," he suggested. It was a joke, but Yhoundeh's smile widened.

"I'd like you to. When you get him home, you should give him a reminder of what happened here today." She patted Nyarlathotep's bottom, as if to emphasize her point. Nyarlathotep groaned and kicked his legs slightly, but otherwise stayed in place. "As much as I enjoy spanking him, I'm sure you have many more ideas than I do of punishments for the human form. And you," she said, bending to take Nyarlathotep by the chin and turn his face so the two made eye contact, "are going to take any punishment that Randolph here decides you need. You came to me for discipline; I think part of you would like Randolph to be able to punish you as well. Am I correct?"

There was another period of quiet. After the first few moments, Randolph expected Yhoundeh to give Nyarlathotep a few more smacks to prompt him. Instead, she let go of his face and squeezed his still captive hand. "Tell me if I'm not, dear. It was simply a guess."

"You are."

Nyarlathotep's voice was so quiet as to be imperceptible itself. The hard surfaces caught the sound; they somehow amplified it so that Randolph could clearly hear what was said. "Good boy," said Yhoundeh. "You've come so far since we first started, haven't you?" Nyarlathotep made a quiet noise in assent. Randolph returned to face Nyarlathotep and knelt back down in front of him.

"Is this something you would like from me?" He asked. Nyarlathotep slowly looked up; Randolph could just see the tops of his eyelashes.

He heard a quiet "yes" from Nyarlathotep. Randolph took Nyarlathotep's face gently in his hands and leaned to kiss the top of his head. "Thank you," he murmured against Nyarlathotep's hair. Yhoundeh turned her head slowly to watch the two of them.

"He's going to get the paddle next," said the goddess, and Randolph could feel Nyarlathotep's face tense. Randolph winced himself, returning briefly to a few select memories from his time in boarding school. Yhoundeh laughed. "I know it's harsh," she said, "but it always helps get the message across."

"I could imagine," said Randolph.

"You can hold it if you'd like."

With one hand, she gestured for her unseen servants to fetch the paddle; with the other she began smacking Nyarlathotep again. This time, Randolph could tell she was intentionally going a bit easier on him. The sound of her hand hitting Nyarlathotep's buttock was quieter; she kept her arm mostly down and built her power from her wrist. Nonetheless, Nyarlathotep's yelps came back at a higher pitch, interspersed with annoyed whines and the sounds of his feet kicking against the floor. "You don't want it cold, do you?"

Something clattered as it was set on the table, and Randolph turned to look. He presumed this was the paddle Yhoundeh was referring to. He gave Nyarlathotep one more kiss before standing and leaving him to Yhoundeh's care.

The paddle, like the table, was made out of a dark wood encased in a layer of ice. When Randolph picked it up, some of the ice melted to the shape of his hands, despite the fact that he was wearing gloves. On the handle, the melting had eaten away at the edges to fit his grip. The striking side still looked formidable. It was approximately the length of Randolph's forearm, and the wood had crystalline gaps as if the ice had eaten away at it over time. Randolph thought about the welts that these little gaps could form, and shivered.

He kept turning it over in his hands as Yhoundeh smacked Nyarlathotep. The light glittered on the crystals inside each hole on the paddle, dancing and moving even when Randolph thought he was holding it still. Only the cessation of the slapping sounds compelled him to look up.

"Why have you earned the paddle today?"

"Because I lied to Randolph," said Nyarlathotep, a trace of recalcitrance in his tone.

"Close," said Yhoundeh. She released him from the leg lock but reached down to take hold of his ear as she pulled him back up and off of her lap. "You never should have been recreationally killing there in the first place. He's human, and you know enough to know that it would upset him." Nyarlathotep stood awkwardly next to her; her hand gripping his ear tightly kept him with his legs half-bent and leaning towards her. His face was scrunched up in pain.

Yhoundeh continued. "If that was your only offense, I wouldn't have to be so hard on you. You might have gotten away with just some time over my knee." Her eyes flashed. "But, like always, you had to go and make things worse. I'm most disappointed in you for acting so craven and telling him you wouldn't have any more of your little sprees in Arkham. You tried to keep your human happy without any real effort on your part. You could have said 'No, I won't stop,' and you would be in a much better place right now. I would still have to punish you for being so wanton, but at least then I would have a lot more respect for you. The fact that you wanted so badly to please a human, then didn't even follow through..." She pursed her lips. "It's embarrassing. And we're going to have to work on your willpower."

Nyarlathotep's face was abashed. He kept his eyes on Yhoundeh, though his brow was downturned and his lower lip between his teeth. "I'm sorry," he said. 

"I know you're sorry for embarrassing me," said Yhoundeh. "And I'm sure you're sorry you were sloppy enough that Randolph could catch you so easily. What we need to be certain of is that you're sorry for making Randolph upset."

Randolph would have been willing to forgive Nyarlathotep immediately. Just the hand spanking seemed painful enough, and with what he knew about Nyarlathotep the humiliation had to be the worst part of the punishment. At the same time, he didn't want to stop Yhoundeh if she wasn't finished. "Ask Randolph for the paddle, then you're going to bend over for me. You remember how to bend over, right?"

All Nyarlathotep could do was nod. Yhoundeh let go of him so he could approach Randolph. He stepped out of his trousers, likely still too proud to allow himself to shuffle with the fabric around his ankles. "May I have the paddle?" He asked.

"Politely!" Called Yhoundeh.

"May I have the paddle, please?" Asked Nyarlathotep, a clear annoyed edge on his voice. Randolph couldn't help but snort and smile at him. It wasn't malicious - if anything, what he felt towards Nyarlathotep was affection. Yhoundeh had asked him to punish Nyarlathotep upon their return to Randolph's home, though all Randolph wanted to do now was curl up on the couch with Nyarlathotep and ask him a million questions about Yhoundeh.

Randolph set the paddle in Nyarlathotep's upturned hands. "Thank you," he said quietly; for a moment, Nyarlathotep's lips twitched upwards. Nyarlathotep returned to Yhoundeh with it and placed it in her lap. Instead of bending across her knee again, Nyarlathotep reached down and lay the palms of his hands flat on the floor.

Yhoundeh pulled Nyarlathotep's shirt up to fully uncover his bottom. "Randolph," she asked, "How many do you think he needs?"

"How many would you normally give?"

"Depends," said Yhoundeh. "If it was me he had lied to, at least 100."

Randolph's eyes widened, and he looked towards Nyarlathotep in surprise. But then, he stopped. They were gods - as fearsome as that paddle was, a number so high may have been standard for them. Yhoundeh seemed to have noticed, and she laughed as she gestured to Randolph. "But our dear human friend gets to decide on this part of your punishment. He was the one you lied to, so it's only fair that he gets to decide how sore your bottom will be. You won't have to do anything more than count, but on each swat I want you thinking about how ignoring your human's wishes then lying to him is just as naughty as ignoring me, and lying to me."

Nyarlathotep made a quiet noise, which sounded like an agreement. Randolph could not see his face, but Nyarlathotep seemed tense, and his reactions restrained. Yhoundeh's gaze remained on Randolph; he had to duck his head. "Twenty," he said. It was a far cry from Yhoundeh's suggested 100, but perhaps Randolph's presence made the punishment harder. Yhoundeh nodded.

"Make sure you're breathing," she instructed Nyarlathotep. "Since it's a lower number, we'll do things a bit different. Four groups of five, hard and fast. You earned this, Nyarlathotep, but I'm proud of you for taking your well-deserved punishment." She stood to his side. She held the paddle against him, making small circles around his stretched-out bottom with the flat of the paddle.

Then she raised it. Randolph's own breath hitched as he watched her, the paddle held aloft by her strong arm and her skirts sweeping around her legs. With her other hand, she swept her long, silver hair to the other side of her body.

The paddle made contact.

Randolph barely noticed Yhoundeh swinging it. He only knew it hit from the crack of wood against bare skin and Nyarlathotep's cry of "one!" that mixed together to shock Randolph into breathing again. Randolph fixed his hair after his startle, but he didn't have enough time before he heard another loud crack and a yelp of "two!". It took until the third for Randolph to get himself together and watch Yhoundeh swing the paddle down in an arc to hit Nyarlathotep ("three!"), then after that Yhoundeh raising her paddle and bringing it down without stopping ("four!"). The fifth followed that same fluid, ceaseless motion that ended in a loud cry from Nyarlathotep and an echoing noise that felt like a jolt straight to Randolph's chest.

Yhoundeh held the paddle against her leg as she studied Nyarlathotep. Already, Randolph could see Nyarlathotep's torso moving up and down and hear quick breaths. Yhoundeh rubbed Nyarlathotep's back. "Good boy. Each set will be harder, so brace yourself." She raised the paddle, a bit higher than last time.

The next five came far faster. The first set had maybe had a second between each stroke; this had even less time. Nyarlathotep clearly didn't have time to recover from each echoing crack. His counts came out milliseconds before the next paddle stroke, by eight the numbers sounded more like incoherent yells than words. Yhoundeh seemed to allow it. After a tenth strike that made Randolph inadvertently pull away, she bent to whisper something in Nyarlathotep's ear. Randolph could see a small nod, though he did not hear what was said.

Yhoundeh stretched her arm. Perhaps she was giving Nyarlathotep a break. Randolph moved again - curious as to what Nyarlathotep's behind looked like now. It seemed much more painful than before. Part of his skin was starting to go raw, having turned from the purple color caused by Yhoundeh's hand to almost white, with darker bruising around these raw patches. Yhoundeh ran her hand over the raw areas. "I told you it would be harder," she said.

And she returned to her work. She gestured for Randolph to stand back as she raised the paddle. As it came down, he could hear it pushing through the air before making contact and the same hard crack, even louder than before. Nyarlathotep's yells grew louder, then quieter, fading into whimpered numbers that grew quieter and quieter.. When Yhoundeh lowered the paddle, the patches of white spread wider. "One more set," she said. "Don't you want to make it through for me?"

"I do," said Nyarlathotep. The indignance in his voice, the whining, was finally gone. His voice was breathy, but he did nothing more with it than convey those two words. Randolph wasn't sure Nyarlathotep had ever spoken to him like that.

"Good boy!"

From where Randolph stood, he could see Nyarlathotep's lips twitch into a smile. "He likes praise," explained Yhoundeh. "After we decided I would discipline him, it was clear he needed strict punishments, but I've found positive reinforcement to be just as useful." Her hand slid under the back of Nyarlathotep's shirt to rub small circles.

Randolph nodded. "I'll... be sure to remember that," he said, after Yhoundeh had been staring at him for a few seconds.

"Hopefully, you'll remember all of this," she said. "Last set. Are you ready?"

Nyarlathotep responded with a quiet noise. Yhoundeh raised the paddle.

Randolph barely processed the last five strokes. With the speed at which Yhoundeh moved, with Nyarlathotep's yelling echoing around the room, with each crack following the last so quickly, it was hard to pick out each individual. It was as if Randolph blinked once and Nyarlathotep was on his knees on the floor, clinging to Yhoundeh's legs and sobbing against the skirts of her dress.

Yhoundeh moved to the chair slowly, letting Nyarlathotep stay wrapped around her legs. His fingers and limbs had dissolved into the fabric of her gown, parts of him blending into her bare skin while Yhoundeh's form bled outwards towards Nyarlathotep. Little tendrils, of a purple so deep that they may as well have been black, pressed into Yhoundeh; longer ones wrapped around her arms. She spoke softly to him.

"Shh, shh. I forgive you. Hush, now."

She looked up briefly from the sobbing god towards Randolph, then jerked her head towards the exit. Randolph didn't have to work to parse what that meant; he nodded and gave one last smile towards Nyarlathotep before walking outside.

Yhoundeh's palace was cold, but it was far worse outside. The same snowstorm that had been raging when Randolph arrived had intensified; the wind pierced his face with little snowflakes that stuck to his nostrils and stung where they hit. He drew his hands from his pockets and wrapped his scarf tightly around his mouth and nose, savoring the brief moments of humid heat before the cold started to creep in again. He stood facing against the black stone of the mountain that was her palace - perhaps it could be a shield against the shrieking winds.

As much as the cold made it hard to think, Randolph's mind started wandering as he looked into the slab before him. Yhoundeh's allusions to Nyarlathotep seeking out discipline stayed with him. At some point, likely millennia ago or longer, Nyarlathotep had come to this goddess - a new goddess, so minor in the cosmic scale as to have domain only over parts of Earth and the Dreamlands. He had asked her to have this control over him - how? Randolph thought of the proud figure he had seen on top of Kadath kneeling and saying that he needed a disciplinarian, that he needed to be kept in line.

But then, how was that so different from what he had just seen?

He thought more. Was this what Nyarlathotep wanted from him? Randolph knew that Nyarlathotep wouldn't have standard interests; he himself enjoyed being a plaything at Nyarlathotep's mercy whenever Nyarlathotep was in a particularly sadistic mood. But this, somehow, was lightyears from sensual evisceration and the intimate violation of having Nyarlathotep assume his form. Nyarlathotep's human body, up over Randolph's lap and squirming as Randolph spanked him. Nyarlathotep standing against the corner on display. Nyarlathotep's mouth open for Randolph to scrub with soap. The visions grew in Randolph's head and mixed together, growing a warm feeling in his chest that made the cold at least a little more bearable.

Something was beginning to coalesce in Randolph's head. There were, of course, the thousands of questions he would have to ask Nyarlathotep, and the promises he'd have to make that this would all stay just between them. But if this was something Nyarlathotep wanted, Randolph was happy - eager - to provide. He thought of Nyarlathotep's typical belittling responses to Randolph's anger, pointing out everything Randolph already knew - Nyarlathotep's power over him, the smallness of Randolph's domain, the insignificance of humanity in general. Would it really only take a well-placed hairbrush to let Randolph feel some sense of shared power with the god?

He felt something. Another burst of wind, strong enough to rip his scarf away from his face, pushed him to the side so he was facing out into the vast fields of snow. Yhoundeh stood outside of the mountain. Her form had changed. She had been tall inside; now she towered over the land around her on elk legs clad in silver fur, shards of ice hanging at her side and ringing against each other like bells over the whistling of the winds. And her gown had become the wind, or the wind her gown. It wrapped around the human part of her body in a glittering whirl of snow and fabric. Randolph's head fell back and he stared into her antlers which bled into the magnetic lights in the sky above them. He dared not look at her face, though from the edges of his vision he could see that it was elongated and sharper.

Had he never seen the gods of the Dreamlands, or the gates of the Silver Key, he would have fallen to his knees and lost all ability to speak, or think. But Randolph held his stance and slowly brought his scarf back over his face to breath deeply, feeling the comforting weight of the key against his chest. "May I return?" He asked. He always did have an impertinent streak.

Yhoundeh said nothing, but Randolph followed her back through the open slab of rock. It rumbled deeply as it slid shut. Nyarlathotep was seated at the table, sitting on his heels and sipping something from a small bowl.

They made eye contact. Despite the faint streaks that remained on Nyarlathotep's face, Randolph felt like Nyarlathotep was measuring him again. It was the same look as Kadath, as their reunion in Ilek-Vad, as their first meeting on Earth. Randolph could only smile back.

"I hope you learned something today," said Yhoundeh, as she walked around to stand beside Nyarlathotep. Her body had become more or less human again. "Both of you." She fixed her gaze on Randolph, who could only nod.

Nyarlathotep rose from his seat and walked towards Randolph. Instinctually, Randolph stiffened, ready to reach for the Key as necessary. But when Nyarlathotep stood before him, neither said or did anything. Randolph's gaze shifted between Nyarlathotep and Yhoundeh, until Yhoundeh finally broke the silence with a laugh.

"Nyarla, you should take him home now," she said.

Nyarlathotep nodded. He reached for Randolph, but Randolph stopped him with a hand on his forearm. "Thank you," he said to Yhoundeh. She simply nodded at him. Nyarlathotep moved Randolph's hand to grip his waist. As his mask started to slip off into whatever unknowable space Nyarlathotep kept it in and the room started to warp, Randolph turned to look into the visible part of the entity that held him.

"Thank you."


End file.
